Blind My Protector
by volatile-hearts
Summary: Arthur is a Sentinel that needs to bond in order to lead the city. Merlin is a powerful empath trying to avoid detection. Something is about to bring them together, something sinister. Arthur/Merlin, TS fusion, modern day setting
1. Chapter 1

Summary: Here Sentinels protect cities and towns with their heightened senses and improved reflexes, and they are paired with Guides to help them. Sentinel Arthur Pendragon is next in line to lead the city, but cannot do so while unbonded. Merlin works in his family's sweets shop, and is a powerful empath, flying under the government's radar. Something is brewing on the horizon, something sinister.

Warnings: violence, cursing, unbeta'd,

* * *

_"Whatever our souls are made of, his and mine are the same__."_ - Emily Bronte

* * *

It was on days like this that Arthur felt more keenly aware that something was missing in his life. It had absolutely nothing to do with the mind numbing boredom associated with diplomatic dignitaries. Although, the huge allotments of time spent during introductions, tours, and tedious meeting with said politicians always seemed to correspond nicely with the times Arthur couldn't stay busy enough to ignore the feeling.

Sadly, the young Sentinel had reached the point in time where he had two choices: he could either slam his head into the wall repetitively, or be uncharacteristically introspective. Since his father would flay him alive if he disturbed the _very_ important meeting with something so trivial as severe head trauma, Arthur settled for the quieter option.

For all the advantages his heightened senses gave him, Arthur had never been able to identify what exactly was missing. Only that it's left a dull aching need in its absence. Athur was going to avoid another Guide at all costs, despite numerous physicians and specialists telling him he exhibited textbook symptoms of needing to bond. After two failed bonding attempts, he wasn't really interested in trying again. With Sophia, an inherent wrongness had permeated their relationship, and made bonding impossible, but it had been even worse with Elena when the ache had flared to a nearly unbearable level; intense enough to make him physically ill and completely unable to bond. Obviously a bonding with a Guide was not the answer. But what did that leave?

Sighing, Arthur pulled his focus back to the Ministry officials, sensing that the negotiations were beginning to heat up. It was no use contemplating such things when there were more pressing matters at hand, like the possible termination of the House.

"Sir, I don't think you understand," Uther said with a calmness that belied a simmering fury, "The Pendragon House for Guides is essential to the well being of the city."

"Incorrect, Mr. Pendragon," said a small, stuck up official, adjusting his thick square glasses, "You are the one who misunderstands. The government is in full support of the use of Sentinels, but wouldn't it be far more sensible to allocate more resources to the Pendragon Sentinel Institute, instead? Going to such great lengths for what is basically a personal servant is an unnecessary expense, surely you can see that?"

Arthur briefly wondered what suicidal higher-up thought it was a good idea to send this pencil pusher – who clearly knew nothing about Sentinels or Guides – to the Prime Alpha Sentinel of the city to discuss budget cuts. Arthur also briefly entertained the idea of his father ripping the idiot's arms off.

"Mr. Botts, do you know what the role of a Sentinel is?" Uther glared at the man.

"Just so we're clear," Uther continued no longer hiding the menace in his voice, "It is the Sentinel's duty to protect the tribe; to see the enemy before anyone else, to hear them creeping in the dark, and to defend the tribe.

"Now, perhaps tribe is a bit of a stretch to describe a modern day city like Albion, but the principle remains. The Sentinels use their elevated senses to guard the territory and the people within it," Sentinel Pendragon went on, his words hardly more than a growl, "However, if a Sentinel focuses too hard and falls into a fugue state, only a Guide can pull them out of it.

"Do _you_ understand now, Mr. Botts?" Uther said, his voice raising in volume and ire, "Only a Guide is capable of breaking a zone-out and no one else."

Stepping into before his father could actually threaten with bodily harm, Arthur spoke up in placating tones. Uther really was rather intimidating what with the barely concealed hostility pouring off his body throughout the entire speech, even Arthur was a bit unnerved.

"Perhaps, Mr. Botts, you should reconsider before you completely withdraw the government funds for the House," Arthur suggested. Botts flinched, and looked torn between hiding under the table and running very, very far away.

"We want to help you," Arthur said, "It is our biological imperative to protect, but if you jeopardize our Guides, Mr. Botts, … we can get rather defensive." _To put it lightly_.

"Y-yes. I can see that now," Botts said, valiantly trying to compose himself.

"And my father is correct." Arthur spared a glance at Uther who had a rather smug look on his face, like a predator toying with its prey. "Guides are an essential to Sentinel welfare. Without them, Sentinels are a danger to themselves and others."

"I was – " Botts paused to adjust his tie. "I was unaware of a Guide's significance."

Before Uther contribute his scathing opinion, an uptight board member cleared his throat.

"Surely that can't be all true. Just look at you Arthur. You have no Guide, yet you perform perfectly well." Arthur stiffened as the entire room's focus turned to him. True, h for the majority of his life his control had been impeccable, even without a Guide, but recently that control had begun to slip. Fugues were occurring with a greater frequency, and sensory spikes had become more painful than ever before.

Clearly, the board member was new. _How in God's name do you get a _new_ board member? Isn't there some unspoken rule that you must be old and stodgy to join?_ Arthur thought miserably.

"Surely other Sentinels could function as well as you do," he continued.

"Truthfully, I'm the exception, not the rule," he said, plastering on a beatific fake smile. "Most Sentinels have bonded with their Guides for several several, at my age."

"Yes, my son is quite exceptional in that sense," Uther added, taking control of the conversation again, and steering them away from his son's unbonded status. "The more prepared an empath is the more efficient they are at guiding Sentinels. It should be apparent that the House for Guides is a requisite expenditure and…"

Yes, Arthur thought as he settled back into his seat, it was on days like these he felt most keenly aware that something was missing in his life.

* * *

Merlin stared vacantly out the window past the backwards letters painted on the glass reading 'Emerys Sweets', lost in his thoughts.

A bustling around him brought his attention back to the task at hand. His mum dipped a finger into the pot and stuck it in her mouth.

"Careful, darling," she warned. "Your chocolate tastes wistful."*

"What?" Merlin sampled some to verify her claim, and sure enough, underneath the chocolate and pepper flakes there was a subtle taste of longing and plaintiveness. "Bugger. That's the second batch today."

"Something the matter?" Hunith asked with all the tenderness and care a mother possessed, "It's not like you to be so absent minded."

"No, nothing's the matter." Merlin set aside the bowl, and began to prepare again. These firecracker bonbons were supposed to be lively, vibrant and full of energy, not _wistful_.

"Come on, out with it," Hunith pressed again. "What's bothering you?" It was no use trying. Merlin might be able to hide the fact that he was Guide from the rest of the world, but there was absolutely nothing he could hide from his mum. The thought brought a smile to Merlin's lips.

"I don't know exactly," he confessed, "It's just this vague sensation that there's something waiting for me out there. Like I can feel it shouting at me." Merlin trailed off, focusing on the feeling again, a yearning pull as if there was _something_ out there crying out, desperately beckoning Merlin. On certain days, Merlin felt nearly helpless against it, barely catching himself before barreling out into the streets to find it.

"Maybe it's just one of _those_ days," Merlin murmured, lost once again to his thoughts.

"One of what days?" Hunith asked, having crossed the room when Merlin wasn't paying attention. Merlin immediately realizes his mistake; he hadn't told his mother about his urge to search for the mysterious thing. Well, there was no putting the cat back into the bag _now_.

"I can always this… this calling, I suppose, to a certain extent. Some days it's more forceful, and really bay days, well," Merlin admitted sheepishly, "I want to, uh, answer back,"

Hunith's eyebrows shot towards her hairline and her eyes widened. ricocheted against Merlin's mental shields.

"I never do!" Merlin said quickly, hoping to ease her distress. Realizing how loudly her emotions were projecting, Hunith dropped her eyes, and concentrated on her task of refilling drawers with more candy.

"I'm sorry, Merlin. You know how I worry about you. What if it's the House trying to lure you in? I would never get to see you again if they took you away from me."

"I know, Mum, I know," Setting down his bowl, Merlin exited the bar and made his way over to her. "There's no need to worry though," he said embracing her, "I can look out for myself; Gaius taught me well."

"Oh, I know," she said, a small smile formed and Merlin felt _anxiousloverelief_ thrum beneath her skin, "Still, maybe you should talk to him about it. Just to be sure."

Merlin held on to her a moment longer. It was almost poetic, he thought, now that his height now allowed him to cradle her the way she used to do for him.

"I'll ask him next time I see him," he said stepping away.

Then just for the sake of it, he turned and hopped over the bar.

"Merlin!" Hunith said exasperated, "You know better than that!"

Merlin just grinned back at her. She huffed at his foolishness, but Merlin could sense the happy bemusement in her, and she returned to her work with a warm smile on her face.

Merlin returned to his work as well. In a much better mood than before, he was determined to infuse the candy with the right emotion. Melting down the chocolate to just the right temperature, Merlin focused on injecting a fiery enthusiasm, and pushed that nagging sense that there was something waiting for him to the back of his mind.

* * *

Somewhere on the North side of the city, three men scanned the crowd on the street, tucked away between two buildings waiting for their target to pass by.

"You sure this is where she'll be?" One asked gruffly, lighting the cigarette clenched between his teeth. The glow cast sharp shadows over his bulldog like features.

The other simply grunted an affirmative. He leaned against the brick wall, while his shorter companion sat on a beat-up old crate, and the third sat curled up on the ground nearly asleep, resting his back against the building with his head on the knees drawn up to his chest; a large duffel bag resting between his feet. His eyes returned to the street. She would pass by eventually, and when she did, they would be ready.

* * *

The backroom was quiet. A large _fwump_ resonated in the large storage space. It was relatively quiet as Merlin clambered about knocking over neat stacks of boxes, rummaging about for red paper liners. _Ah._ There they are sitting atop the highest shelf

Just as he stood on the short stepladder, unbearable agony raced through him. With a loud crash, Merlin fell to the floor, lost to a maelstrom of sorrow and anguish. _Oh dear God. _Merlin sobbed, he knew these emotions belonged to someone else, but oh dear God, they _felt_ like his own, like his very soul was being ripped to pieces.

He heard the door open, and his mother's distressed cry. But still the only thing he could concentrate on was the stifling mournfulness, cloying despair, and an overwhelming scream of _pain loss painpainpainlosslossLOSS!_

Then as abruptly as it came, it was gone. Shaking, Merlin sat up gradually. Hunith was at his side, searching for an injury, as he tried to piece together what had happened.

"We need to call Gaius," he said unsteadily.

"What?" Hunith said, her heart racing in her chest, "What just happened Merlin?"

"I don't know," he murmured, alarm edging into his eyes. "Someone – it was grief, such heart-wrenching grief…"

"Who's?"

"I don't know," Merlin repeated fearfully.

* * *

Arthur knocked and proceeded to enter his father's office. Uther clapped a hand on Arthur's shoulder meeting him halfway in the room, a satisfied smile spread across his face.

"You did well in the conference, today," he acknowledged. A small part of Arthur's brain wondered if he was having him on.

"Thank you, Father," he said instead, deciding that his father had never once told a joke in his life, and he would be damned if the senior Pendragon started now.

"That Mr. Botts will think twice before crossing us again," Uther said, looking pleased, as if scaring the wits out of the man, had been the whole purpose of the meeting.

"That is for sure," muttered Arthur, who had spent the entire afternoon pleading and cajoling with many _very_ unhappy government officials who 'did not want their representatives harassed' by one Uther Pendragon. Needless to say it was very tedious afternoon spent on the phone attempting to pacify them. Again.

He understood that all Sentinels had the Blessed Protector reflex; Arthur himself had experienced the near animal urge to protect the Guides at all costs. But he thought that his father tended to carry that instinct over into non-crisis situations a bit too often for comfort. A boardroom was not the place to defend Guides with feral determination, why couldn't his father see that?

Uther squeezed his shoulder reassuringly, and then dropped his hand. He walked around his desk, taking his seat like a king would on his throne. Arthur followed suit and took a seat in front of the mahogany monstrosity.

"You wanted to discuss something with me?" Arthur inquired.

"Yes," Uther said picking up a set of papers in front of him. "I wanted to go over the latest Sentinel reports on – " Uther paused, cocking his head as if listening. Arthur focused his hearing to see what had caught his father's attention.

Footsteps made their way down the hall, still several meters away but closing the distance to the office fast. There was something agitated in the cadence of the step. Whoever Arthur heard coming was mostly likely not bringing good news.

Moments later, the door burst open abruptly, and Leon skidded to a halt in front of the desk. Father and son looked on blankly as sneaking sense of dread wormed its way into their hearts. If the foreboding look on the Sentinel Institute Director's face was anything to go by, the next words out of his mouth were _not_ going to be good.

"Sir, a Guide was attacked."

In a flash, red clouded his vision; Arthur could feel his consciousness slipping, and a dark, feral, angry thing clawing up to take its place. He scowled in Leon's direction. Training with Sentinels daily must had aided him, because he was not phased by the heated glares he was faced with now.

"What." Uther ground out, barely suppressing a growl. Leon shook his head pitifully. Arthur inhaled sharply; distress was surging off of him, clouding the room like a heady perfume.

"A Guide was attacked in the lower district." Here the normally confident man hesitated. "She's dead."

The words shocked Arthur out of the feral rage that had been building and he stared at Leon speechless. Uther sounded as if his fury had been doused in ice water, leaving nothing but ashes behind. "What of her Sentinel?"

"Dead as well," Leon replied, voice full of remorse.

"Do we know what happened?" Arthur asked hoarsely.

"She was attacked while walking home. There were no witnesses. We know little else." He looked deploringly at Uther, and waited, clearly expecting some violent reaction.

"Sir?" Leon said beseechingly, when none came.

"Arrange a team of Sentinels. Have them examine the crime scene. They should be able to pick up her attackers' scent," Uther said, in a commanding voice; a righteous fire ignited in his eyes. The Sentinel stood and headed for the door, brushing past Leon. "Report back to me the moment you find something. Arthur, retrieve Gaius, I must speak with him immediately." And then he was gone, marching down the hall; looking for blood.

Obviously dismissed, Leon turned to bid Arthur farewell, however before he could step away, Arthur spoke up. "Wait." Leon paused. "What was her name?"

His eyes widened. Leon knew Uther would not care to ask, but he hadn't expected the young Pendragon to. Pride swelled deep within his chest and he answered.

"Maria, Maria Harper." Arthur nodded, committing the name to memory.

"And Eric." Arthur turned, and looked puzzled. Leon smiled knowingly. "Her Sentinel's name was Eric Harper." Arthur half-heartedly smirked in response. He had known Leon too long if the other man could answer questions before he asked them.

"Come on, Leon," Arthur said grimly, standing to leave, "Duty calls."

* * *

* A/N: If you ever saw/read _Because of Winn-Dixie_ and you remember the candy that tasted like melancholy/sadness, this is a lot like that.


	2. Chapter 2

_"Destiny is no matter of chance, it is a matter of choice; it is not a thing to be waited for: it is a thing to be achieved."_ - William Jennings Bryant

* * *

A dead Guide was just the beginning of it.

Leon reported that the Institute initially had no idea a Guide had been assaulted. The first sign that anything appeared wrong was when Sentinel Harper suddenly collapsed in the middle of a crowded room. He was rushed to the hospital, but it to no avail. He died shortly after arriving at the ER, and any resuscitation attempt proved futile.

Two hours ago, a witness report came in stating a Guide trauma nurse had burst into uncontrollable tears, when the Sentinel was brought in. Upon further questioning, she claimed that his bond had been broken, and the grief and outrage that had erupted from the broken bond had been overwhelming.

_Jesus Christ_. Attacking a Guide was one thing, but forcibly breaking a bond? That was a whole other level of unforgivable. If Arthur hadn't wanted these scumbags before, he sure as hell as wanted them now. Every Sentinel within a hundred mile radius was foaming at the mouth to bring down the anonymous assailant.

An hour and a half ago, the official police report on the assault had come in. The Guide had been walking home from a friend's, when she was jumped by at least three people. Her body was found in an alleyway, one street over from her house.

_But it gets better,_ Arthur thought sourly.

Forty-five minutes ago, the team returned to report back. The Sentinels assigned to pursue the assailants had been entirely useless. Whoever these attackers were they knew what they were dealing with, and broke a bottle of clove essential oil at the scene of the crime to mask their scent, making it impossible to track them.

That had been the last significant report. The autopsy wouldn't be completed until tomorrow. There was nothing to be done until then. Seven hours had passed since the initial discovery of the deceased Sentinel-Guide pair, and they were no closer to catching those sick bastards. Arthur sighed frustrated, dropping the last report a top the others spread across the table before him. He had hoped that reviewing everything might shed some new light on the matter. But no such luck, it all looked exactly the same.

Hours had past, and they had done nothing to retaliate. Arthur hated this feeling of inadequacy. He picked up the witness report again; forcing himself reread it, focusing on the words in front of him, on the curve of the letter "e", on the contrast between the uneven edge of the black ink and the stark white paper…

"–thur!"

The world rushed back into place around him, suddenly aware of the sounds of people working around him, of the multiple dial tones on several phones, the smell of stale sweat, the sound of footsteps, the smell of cheap coffee, the feel of his unforgiving plastic chair, the irritating glare of the fluorescent lights and computer screens. The entire makeshift headquarters snapped back into focus. Dazed, Arthur searched for the source of the voice, merely to find Gaius directly in front of him.

The Guide had been ghostly pale when Arthur found him. Arthur stared at him now. He looked much better. Completely composed, as if nothing had happened, looking to be the ideal professional in every way except for the looming sadness that haunted his eyes.

Arthur willed his mind to stop wandering, still reeling from the fugue, and struggling to restrain the inflow of sensory stimulus. Gaius watched him closely, a gentle hand on his shoulder. "Welcome back," he said kindly, "Are you alright?"

"Yeah, fine," Arthur replied distractedly.

"I'm afraid you zoned,"

"So it would seem," Arthur said tiredly.

"You should get some rest," Gaius urged.

"No, I'm fine – " Arthur started, simply to be cut short by his father.

"Arthur, you should do what he says," Uther appeared concerned, possibly worried, more likely embarrassed by his son's weakness.

"It won't happen again. I'm fine," Arthur declared, "Just a bit tired is all."

"Arthur, I really must insist," said Gaius.

"Resting won't stop them," Arthur argued vehemently.

"You, constantly zoning, won't help either!" Uther shouted, "You're uselessly to me like this. Go home and rest."

"Yes, Prime Alpha," Arthur replied stiffly.

Mechanically, he sorted the reports into their files, and then packed them away in his briefcase. He grabbing his coat he made for the door. By the time he exited, the room had recovered from its stunned silence, and began to converse in hushed whispers.

* * *

Unease rolled off the building like snow in an avalanche. Merlin approached The Pendragon House for Guides, just as the early morning sun broke over the top of the roof. The House had never been so agitated before. Merlin checked his shields, and steeled himself for a bunch of panicky empaths. _This is going to be one hell of a visit._ He thought as he pushed through the large double doors, squeezing himself and his large basket between them.

He had seen some Sentinels hanging about the entrance of the building, but now that he was inside, Merlin realized that nearly every Sentinel in the city could now be found in the lobby of the House; all milling about aimlessly obviously needing a task to distract them, but unwillingly to stray far from their Guides. The restlessness and anxiousness of so many bodies in such an enclosed space hit him like a brick to the face. Make that several bricks. His shields remained intact but it did cause Merlin's steps to falter on his way to the front desk.

_Seems like Guides aren't the only ones shaken up about last night._ Merlin thought as he approached the large reception desk at the back of the room, situated directly between two large sets of double-doors. He smiled wanly at Rhonda as he squeezed and pushed his way through the thick crowd mingling in the lobby. Her eyes screamed relief at the sight of him.

"Thank goodness you're here," she said, "Perhaps you can talk some sense into these brutes." She gestured to the Sentinels who suddenly took great interest in the wallpaper and potted plants.

Merlin laughed, and set his basket on the counter.

"Don't see how a scrawny kid like me could do much," he replied.

The secretary threw her hands in the air. "They are clogging up my lobby, and I have tried telling them, they are _not_ helping," she started collecting the visitor paperwork and continued, "They only thing they _are_ accomplishing by bumming about in _my_ reception area is causing those poor guides _more_ grief with all this nervous, useless energy." She then glared at the closest group of Sentinels for good measure. Some of them had enough decency to blush embarrassedly.

Satisfied, Rhonda handed the papers and identity badge to Merlin, who then signed the forms and clipped the ID to the front of his tan leather jacket.

Rhonda took back the forms and sighed, "At least, you're here now. Perhaps your infamous sweets can calm down our resident empaths. I'm sure the girls will appreciate the treats and sense of normalcy."

"I'll do what I can," Merlin said, "And hey, who knows, maybe I can convince one of the Knights to chase off all these goons." He smiled good-naturedly, though some of the surrounding Sentinels looked rather perturbed at the thought.

Rhonda made a sound somewhere between a laugh and a sigh.

"Yes, please." Came her soft, exasperated reply.

Merlin smiled one last time at the tough as nails secretary, before turning and walking towards the left set of double doors. After several well-worn twists and turns, he found himself at the door to the common area, guarded by two security officers stationed on either side of the door.

"Hold it."

The guard on the right had raised his arm to halt Merlin. Obviously hired on as extra security, since nearly everyone at the House recognized Merlin. He stopped, and eyed the guards carefully. The first one inspected his ID tag, while the other frisked him briefly.

"What are you doing here?" asked the first guard; he was older and clearly more experienced than his young partner. Said partner was currently rooting around Merlin's basket for viable threats. Merlin almost considered rolling his eyes at that.

"I'm from Emerys Sweets. I bring candies and desserts here every Friday," Merlin answered.

"All clear, sir," the greenhorn declared, handing the basket back to Merlin.

"Understood," the older guard nodded, before turning back to the stranger in front of him, "It's Thursday. What are you doing here?" His eyes narrowed in suspicion.

Feeling slightly irritated at being treated like a potential kidnapper, Merlin curtly replied, "I was watching the news, and when I learned what had happened, I figured I could help the empaths by bringing them something to cheer them up."

The guard stared a moment longer, before saying, "Alright. Let him through." Then turned to speak into his radio headset, as Merlin brushed past him and into the room.

Before he could take two steps, he was caught in a crushing embrace. It took a moment to process what was happening before he realized there was only one person he knew with the color of curly brown hair that swamped his field of vision .

"Hi, Gwen," he choked out in greeting.

"Oh!" Gwen hastily let go, and backed up a few paces, "I'm so sorry, it's just – I'm so glad to see you. Everyone has been so afraid. I just – I'm happy to see another one of my friends isn't hurt."

"No worries," Merlin chuckled. He set his basket on the floor, and when he looked up he saw Morgana striding his way.

"Oh Merlin!" She exclaimed, wrapping her arms around his neck, "It's been horrible!"

He wrapped his arms around her and returned the hug. She pulled back to stand beside Gwen; her face pinched with concern around her eyes and the corners of her mouth, so that even while smiling, the joy looked forced and hollow.

"Please tell me you brought your famous 'Chocoholic Chocolate'. I need a serious pick me up – and so does everyone else for that matter," she pleaded.

Merlin reached down into his basket and pulled out at prettily wrapped package full of an assortment of chocolates. He gave it to Morgana, "Have I ever let you down?" he teased. She nearly snatched the bag out of his hands, digging into the sweets with childish delight that momentarily erased the tension on her face.

Merlin reached down once again, and produced a bag a caramels. He gave them to a slightly startled Gwen. After the look of surprise faded, a warm smile and chocolate brown eyes that shone with gratitude took its place.

"Thank you."

"You're welcome." Merlin basked in the feelings of his two friends; it was a welcomed reprieve from all the trepidation that smothered the House.

He was about to pick up his basket and head over to the other Guides, but a delicate touch on his arm from Morgana stopped him. He turned to her, and with a small amount of amusement saw chocolate smeared at the corner of her mouth. He looked at her, silently asking her why.

"Don't go over there," she answered, "Uther's having a fit, and might actually break your arm if you get to close to anyone else."

Curious at the gravity in her tone, Merlin looked farther into the room and noticed nearly all of the empaths were corralled into the main seating area, nervously perched on the edge of couches and chairs – some even sat on the floor. And around them stalked Uther; pacing like a caged animal, waiting to lash out, and strike something.

"Best wait, until Gaius gets here," Morgana murmured, hunting around for more chocolate from her bag.

Absently, Merlin nodded his agreement, moving to stand next to the wall with Gwen and Morgana, carefully watching the Prime Alpha, and settling in to wait.

* * *

Arthur walked down the hall beside Gaius, neither spoke, each too lost in their thoughts to carry a decent conversation. As they neared the door, Arthur extended his registered their footsteps, cast aside the information, letting it fade into an indistinguishable background sound, and moved forward. He heard the breath of the guards in front of the door, dismissing that, he moved forward still, searching for the Guides to ease his frayed nerves. Finally he located them, in the center of the room, hearts beating a little quicker than normal, but otherwise fine. Surrounding them was his father's familiar tread.

Arthur began to pull back satisfied everyone was safe. But before he could, a familiar voice caught his attention within the room,

«… need a serious pick me up - and so does everyone else for that matter.»

_Morgana_, Arthur thought as the voice clicked into place, _Thank gods she's safe._ A surge relief abated the knot in his chest, as he listened to his adoptive sister's voice.

«Have I ever let you down?» a new voice added to the mix.

_Who's she talking with?_ Arthur thought immediately on edge again. He didn't recognize the voice, and a stranger at the heart his territory in the same room as the Guides was to be remedied immediately. Picking up his pacing and ignoring Gaius's confused calls, Arthur hurried towards the common area.

Arthur bangs open the door and scans the room looking for the intruder and finding him on the other side of the room, standing between Gwen and Morgana. His shoulder rested against the wall behind him causing his tall frame to slant accentuating the leanness. Dark black hair, well-defined cheekbones, and gray blue eyes, made for a striking combination resulting in an unusual sort of beauty. Not that Arthur would notice such things about a potential threat, but a physical description is important when reporting to the authorities.

Just as he's about to confront the _not_ attractive stranger, when he's intercepted by his father who demanded a progress report.

"Still no new leads, and the tracking team hasn't had any luck," Arthur starts stumbling at the rapid change of course. "The police called about twenty minutes ago. The autopsy is finished and the official report should be ready soon."

Before Uther could harass him for more information, Gaius stepped in to ask about empaths' condition. Arthur breathed a sigh of relief, as uther was successfully sidetracked. Gaius turned back and smiled - a small, knowing grin. Arthur mouthed a silent thank you to the good doctor, before focusing again on the mysterious stranger, as he began to stalk to across the room.

"So, when did think the _Great Uther_ will allow me to see them?" Sarcasm dripped off the strangers whispered words.

"Be quiet!" Gwen shushed, "He _is_ still a Sentinel. He _will_ hear you."

"What's he gonna do?" the man replied cheekily, grinning over his shoulder, "Eat me? How about eat my sweets?"

Morgana snorted she stifled her laughter. "Oh, I'd pay to see that," she whispered back.

The response stopped Arthur's approach short. Plenty of people were friends with Gwen, it was hard to dislike her, but people barely dared to talk to Morgana, must like less joke with her.

"Care to make a wager?" the man leaned forward conspiratorially, "I bet I can make Uther eat my candy."

Morgana tore her gaze away from the spectacle that was Uther Pendragon to look at him. Her sharp eyes sized him up for a brief moment, before the two of them grinned mischievously.

"You're on," she said, "Uther has to eat at least six of your candies, before the end of the day."

"Three," he countered, "Winner gets first pick at the TV all day, Friday."

"Four candies."

"Deal."

"Prepare yourself, Merlin, for an entire day of Project Catwalk," Morgana said smugly.

Arthur stared on in shock as he watched his sister and the stranger shake on a bet to get his father to eat sugar, _his_ father, the Prime Alpha of the city, the most widely feared and respected Sentinel in the UK.

Just as Arthur picked his jaw up from the floor, Gaius called out, "Merlin! There you are. Quit dawdling." The strange man - Merlin - scooped up the basket lying near his feet and walked over to Gaius, to start assisting him.

Collecting his scattered thoughts once again, Arthur finished crossing the room to glare at Morgana menacingly.

"Oh, hello, Arthur."

It didn't work, but really it was the principal of the thing.

"Who was that?" he demanded.

"I know you're manners are atrocious, but really Arthur, you can't even be bothered to say 'hello'."

"Fine. Hello Morgana," he grit out, before switching to a more pleasant tone, "Gwen, it's good to see you."

"You as well," Gwen replied sweetly.

"Who was that, Morgana?"

"Who, Merlin?" she said with an air of false innocence.

Arthur just glared at her mulishly until she continued. Morgana rolled her eyes at him, "I actually surprised you don't know him. He bring us sweets every Friday. Sometimes he stops by more often than that."

"He hangs out with Lancelot," Gwen chimed in, "I mean, when he's not here, and when Lance's not working and all."

"Relax, Arthur," Morgana said, "You don't have to defend our maidenly virtue."

Arthur sputtered, "I hardly think there is anything virtuous about you, much less maidenly."

Morgana scoffed, "I won't even begin to dignify that with a response."

Arthur looked back at this Merlin. He currently talking softly to one of the younger Guides as Gaius held a stethoscope to his chest. The boy sniffled, close to tears but trying to hide it. Merlin dug around in his basket to pull out a large lollipop with a dazzling grin. The boy gave him a watery smile in return and eagerly unwrapped the treat, as Merlin and Gaius moved on to the next patient.

"How does he know Gaius?" Arthur asked quietly, unable to leave well enough alone.

Morgana sighed, like she was being extremely generous by answering his questions. "Apparently Gaius knew him as a little kid. He was actually the one who suggested Merlin bring candy to the House."

"Huh."

It was strangely comforting to watch Merlin work. Arthur felt something in him slowly unwinding as Merlin and Gaius made their way through all of the empaths, handing out sweets and checking their health. It was amazing to watch the way each of them opened up to Merlin; they smiled a little more with him, and a few even laughed stress of yesterday's incident gradually faded away with every taffy, chocolate, and lollipop that was passed out.

Arthur felt someone staring at him, and when he turned to look he saw a little girl with watching him avidly with big brown eyes. She continued to stare at him, and just as he was about to say something, she darted away.

She ran over to where Merlin was kneeling on the floor, packing empty wrappers into his basket. She stood on her tiptoes to whisper into his ear, a small hand cupped to her mouth. Merlin leaned to hear better, then turned to look at her. He raised an eyebrow in question, the little girl simply pointed at Arthur and Merlin followed her finger.

The moment their eyes locked, it felt like a bolt of lightning struck Arthur. The world froze, and time slowed, and all Arthur could think about beside horrible clichés was how he would like to see those eyes everyday for the rest of his life.

It was understandably jarring, when his father shoved him towards the door and the world started spinning again.

"Gaius is finished. We're heading to the morgue to get the coroner's report," Uther informed him, as he struggled to reorient himself; helpless to resist being manhandled out the door. Fifteen minutes later at the morgue, Arthur still couldn't get the strange man with the goofy smile and basket of sweets out of his head.


	3. Chapter 3

"_Attraction is beyond our will or ideas sometimes_." - Juliette Binoche

* * *

Apprehension had been steadily growing in the pit of his stomach since they had entered the hospital by the time the elevator doors dinged, Arthur was convinced he had swallowed live birds and they were starting a riot.

Nobody like the morgue. Normals weren't too stoked about death. Guides were unnerved by the emotional vacuum of being surrounded by the empty shells of once living people. And Sentinels loathed the putrid smell of decay that always lingered there. Gaius had suggested that Arthur wait in the car, while he and Uther questioned the ME, but Uther had gotten this disappointed look on his face that said "Why did I get _you_ for a son, did they have nothing better in stock?" so of course, Arthur had stubbornly insisted he could handle it.

He was severely regretting it now as the smell of the newly dead wafted down the hall. They stopped before a set of automatic doors halfway down the basement's walk way. Arthur steeled himself for the worst as the doors swished open and he was met by a petite Asian woman with the sunniest smile he had ever seen and a smattering of freckles across her nose and cheeks.

"Dr. Gaius," she chirped happily, "And Sentinels Pendragon and Pendragon, welcome."

"Dr. Thantos, I believe," Gaius said pleasantly enough despite his obvious discomfort.

"Yes, Detective Inspector Jones called. He said to be expecting you. Would you like to see the bodies?"

"Yes, please," said Gaius grimly.

The smell of decomposition had nearly doubled since entering the sparse metal room and Uther's face had taken on a distinctly pinched look and he stood close to Gaius until they were practically breathing the same air. He even managed to maintain that lack of distance as they approached the wall lined with small square metal doors.

Arthur was a couple steps behind fighting off a wave of nausea but made it over to the door in the middle row just slightly off center that Dr. Thantos had just opened. She pulled out a dead body lying on a thin metal shelf covered with a plain white cloth.

The stagnant scent of fear assaulted Arthur coupled with blood and death and decay. For the scent to still be noticeable after so many hours, the poor woman must have been terrified out her mind when she died. It stirred the fury that still hadn't left Arthur, enough for him to grab control of his senses and focus on what Dr. Thantos was saying.

"...only thing I can say for absolute certain is that they both died of cardiogenic shock." As she spoke the medical examiner folded back the cloth, revealing the deceased Guide's face and part of her chest. If not for the ashen color of her skin, she might have been asleep. "For Maria Harper, the shock resulted in a tearing of the tendons of her heart valves and several ruptures in the sepia. Her heart was literally broken."

"What caused it?" Gaius said tightly.

"Unknown," she said, brows drawn together quizzically, "As far as I can tell, her heart spontaneously destroyed itself. However, I think what actually triggered it lies somewhere in your area of expertise, Dr. Gaius."

Gaius simply hummed thoughtfully in response. Then, pointed and said, "What about his bruising around the heart?" Indicating the purple and blue coloring that fanned out around a circle of unmarred skin. The center of the mark sat directly beneath a branch of the Y-shaped incision left behind from the autopsy.

"I noticed that too," Thantos responded, "Most likely inflicted during the assault, definitely not post-mortem. Is this significant to you?"

"Yes," replied Gaius gravely, "There are several schools of thought that believe the bond between Sentinel and Guide is anchored in the heart. That means someone attacked the bond between her and her Sentinel and then broke it."

"Is that what caused the cardiogenic shock?"

"Most likely, yes." Gaius replaced the cloth, covering her deceptively peaceful face once again.

Uther had been turning greener and greener by the second, but managed to speak up, "This confirms what the trauma nurse claimed."

Arthur was fairly certain that if he opened his mouth he would vomit, so instead he covered his nose with the sleeve of his jacket, inhaling as little as possible.

Thantos pushed the metal shelf back and closed the door. She turned to walk back toward the metal dissection table in the center of the room. It was the only one occupied of the three.

"According to the EMTs, Eric Harper must have suffered similar heart failure." Thantos folded back the cloth to uncover the late Sentinel, this time however folding the sheet down to his waist. "At first, they thought it was a heart attack, but he didn't respond to any of their treatments. I won't know for certain until I open him up, but I'd bet my bottom dollar, his heart will look exactly like hers."

Arthur was rather morbidly transfixed by the man's chest - completely unscathed - it really did look like he was just asleep. Arthur snapped out of his daze.

"Wait a minute." Sickness temporarily forgotten. "There's no bruise on his chest."

All the live members of the room stared at him. Then, both Uther and Gaius looked back to the body.

"Very astute of you, Sentinel Pendragon," Dr. Thantos complemented. She wore a pleased smile, and a mischievous gleam in her eyes. Arthur started to smile back, but stopped abruptly. "Silver can by the door, Sentinel."

Arthur rushed to empty the contents of his stomach, retching loudly just as he reached the can.

Gaius touched Uther's wrist quietly saying, "Dial down hearing and smell, sir."

When he did, Uther went from about to join Arthur to mildly disgusted. The elder Pendragon picked up where Arthur had left off, "Why is there no bruising on the Sentinel?"

"I'm not sure," Thantos said, walking over to her desk tucked away in the back of the room and grabbing an empty coffee cup, "I can't find anything that would make that type of bruise patterning. The closest I could come up with is getting shot by a paintball gun, but even that wouldn't leave the epicenter undamaged like this."

The ME walked to the sink just to the right of the door, rinsing the mug and filling it with water. She knelt next to Arthur who seemed to be recovering and handed him the cup. He muttered a soft "thank you" and she smiled encouragingly, gently rubbing his back before standing and returning to the table.

Gaius waited patiently for her before saying, "Only the Guide was attacked. Perhaps that is why only she has the bruises."

"Makes sense. But again, this is not my area of expertise." She paused and looked frankly at Uther and Gaius. "I don't know the processes involved with breaking a bond. Until yesterday, I thought it was impossible - that weaker bonds tended to dissolve if partners were to incompatible or that the death of one of the partners was the only way to cleanly break the bond. Maria Harper was alive for this. There could be any number of reasons why the Guide received more external damage than the Sentinel, but I just don't know since I have nothing concrete to work off of."

They were all quiet, staring expectantly at Gaius. Finally, he met their eyes and said, "I might know of something, but I would need to do more research. I read something in passing so long ago, cannot even be sure I read it. Either way there's nothing more I can do here."

With little warning Uther stormed out of the room, and Gaius gathered up a woozy Arthur who set down the tiny rubbish bin and waved in the general direction of Dr. Thantos, mumbling apologies and goodbyes. Gaius straightened and inclining his head towards Dr. Thantos, "Thank you for your time. I will contact you as soon as I learn something."

"I'd say come back anytime, but I know I'm the only one who likes it here," she said with another brilliant smile.

Back in the car, Arthur slumped down into the seats, deciding to sleep off the rest of his queasiness. He was vaguely aware of his father and Gaius conversing in low tones, but soon it fading away and all he was left with was dreams filled with storm blue eyes, sugar, and something just out of his reach.

* * *

Merlin was walking through the dormitory wing of the House when he was yanked through a door. He let out an undignified squeak only to be shushed by Morgana. After quite a bit of flailing, Merlin settled while Morgana giggled devilishly.

He glared at her, "Har har. Let's all laugh at Merlin and his girly scream."

"Oh Merlin, you know I love you no matter how much you sound like a stuffed toy." She smiled sweetly, well as sweetly as Morgana can anyways.

Merlin collapsed on one of the twin beds. "Is Gwen here?"

"Nah," Morgana said sitting at the chair, and began fixing her makeup in the small mirror sitting on the desk. "Lance got a couple of hours off so they're hanging out in the library together."

"I'm surprised she managed to get permission to do so on such short notice," he remarked, "Especially with all the chaos that's been happening."

"Well it helps that they consented to meet inside of the House. And that Lance is everyone's favorite golden boy."

"Probably doesn't hurt that they're going to be bonded." Morgana hummed in agreement as she re-applied mascara to her long lashes. Merlin waited a beat before grinning so wide that it threatened to break his face. "About our bet..."

"What's the score?"

"I slipped two into his office and when I checked later the wrappers were empty in the rubbish bin."

"Two's not enough, Merlin," she reminded him primly, "You're only halfway there."

"I've still got the rest of the day."

"I suppose you do." She stood again and moved to flop down next to him. It sent off alarm bells in Merlin's head, Morgana was only ever a lady, _unless_ something was worrying her.

"So anything new in the wonderful world of Morgana?" he prodded gently.

She twined her long fingers together and apart and back together again for a few moments. Merlin was content to wait her out. When she did speak, it came as a bit of a surprise, he was expecting to hear something about the recent death, what he got instead was, "... yeah. I had another dream."

In the same way that Merlin was different than normal empaths, so was Morgana. Most Guides were considered particularly gifted if they could get in contact with their inner world or what was more commonly known as the 'spirit world'. But Morgana received visions from spirit animals in the form of dreams. They didn't come often but when they did, they heralded times of great change.

"I think it was about Arthur," she continued, "But it didn't start off with him. There was this owl; it was huge - nearly as long as my arm.

"It was sitting in the branches of a young sapling, but then there was a great, terrible roar. The owl panicked and flew high into the trees and concealed itself among the leaves. Just as the owl was hidden, an old weary lion stepped into the clearing and roared that same terrible roar.

"Eventually, the lion moved on, but the owl still wouldn't come out. Another lion entered the glade, a much younger one, he didn't even have a mane and - oh, Merlin! - it was awful. He had a bloody, gaping hole in the middle of his chest.

"The lion called out in pain. I don't know what it was searching for - I-I think it was looking for the owl, but the bird still would not come out. Poor lion, he's so very tired and so very lonely. And just when I thought the owl was going to come out from its hiding place that senile old fool of a lion comes charging back into the clearing and strikes the the younger lion. So of course, bleeding and wounded, Arthur dutifully follows the old beast out of the forest to search out some unknown danger."

Tears were gathering at the corners of her eyes. Merlin wrapped an arm around her shoulders and gave her a reassuring squeeze. "You said Arthur?"

"I think Arthur is the younger lion," Morgana said collecting herself, "And I think Uther is the daft lion too aged to be a leader. But I didn't tell you; just as the two lions are leaving the owl jumps out from the tree tops and secretly follows the young lion; keeping him safe."

"Huh," Merlin said thoughtfully, "Do you know anyone who is an owl?"

"No!" She sounded frustrated. "There are a lot of Guides here who have bird spirit animals like the little girl you were talking to earlier - Jenny - she has a blue jay, but none of them are birds of prey and none of them are anywhere near large enough."

"Well, what else about this owl?"

"And it had the brightest eyes, a deep molten orange. This sounds silly, but it was almost like magic, staring into those eyes."

Merlin froze. Once a long time ago, his mother had brought him to a shaman visiting the continent. The wise man had taken one look at Merlin and cried happily what a special one he was. That he had eyes like magic. Being all of four at the time, it had made very little sense at the time so like every decent four year-old he had forgotten about it, but the memory raced to the forefront of his mind now.

"Eyes like magic, maybe?" he strangled out.

"Yes! Exactly!" said Morgana excitedly, "Do you know someone like that?" But before he could get a word out, she corrected herself. "What am I talking about? You're not a Guide, how would you know what people's spirit animals are?"

"Right," His voice was slightly strained. But he cleared his throat and fixed it before Morgana could notice. "What do you think the dream means?"

"You know how these things go," she said flatly, "20/20 with hindsight."

"Hmm, well," Merlin said standing, "Let me know if you have a sudden epiphany. I've got a man to see about some candy."

Her laughter followed him into the hallway. He was lucky to have escaped without detection, if he had stayed any longer, Morgana might have picked up on his nervousness. He knew exactly whose owl that was. It was his; an Eurasian Eagle-Owl with glowing red-orange eyes. It begged the question: why would he be following a lion when he was trying so hard to avoid them?

* * *

Bulldog was dragging his feet.

Few people ever expected it looking at him, but he was the most communicative out of the three, he might go so far as to say loquacious. Alas, it didn't matter how much of a conversationalist you were, if people only ever expected you to growl. Being the most talkative had it faults though. It meant that when shit went bad, you got the lucky honor of reporting failure to the boss. Somehow "don't kill the messenger" wasn't real popular in among criminals.

Most people thought his partner who was wiry, thin and tall enough to brush the tops of doorways did the talking. And sure, Snake could give the report, but it was akin to pulling teeth from an ornery alligator - in a word, painful.

As for the third member of their three-man crew, Bulldog wasn't entirely sure he could speak; some punk adolescent who failed out the Guide program. Gave Bulldog the creeps, but the kid was essential to the job so there was no use wasting breath on it.

Between his taciturn colleague and the fundamentally mute brat, Bulldog was left. _Bollocks_.

As he entered the dark, spacious room, he removed his flat cap, respectfully, and stopping at the bottom of the stairs that lead up to the platform where the boss was standing.

Bulldog cleared his throat and began in a deep, raspy voice, "It didn't succeed, sir."

The boss remained silent.

He pushed on, determined to get this over with, "The Guide didn't survived the process. Died just as we finished, sir."

More silence. Bulldog could feel his muscles coiling, preparing to defend himself.

"Very well," the boss said calmly, "Find another Guide and try it again."

That didn't sit right. "Sir?"

"Find another Guide and try it again." he repeated again, serenely even. Bulldog and Snake shifted uncomfortably. _Good_, Bulldog thought, _at least Snake's uneasy about this, too_.

"Same orders as before, then?"

"Yes," the boss replied - still unruffled, "Set up a surveillance and intercept."

"Very well," Bulldog grunted, and moved to leave, waving for Snake to follow with him.

As they were walking towards the door, the kid trailing behind them, the boss called out, "Oh, but before you go..." They paused and turned slightly towards him.

"If you get caught," he said, steel laced in his voice, "Prison will be the least of your worries, I will make sure of that."

"Of course," Bulldog conceded gruffly. Then they exited the room.

Most criminal bosses yelled, ranted and raved when he delivered bad news. But this new guy was the most level headed person he had ever encountered. It didn't fit, the boss should have been furious. The only thing Bulldog could think of was that beneath that thin veneer of calm lied something truly sinister, something patiently biding its time for the opportune moment, something that smart enough and clever enough to know that wait was worth it.

And that thought sent a chill down his spine.

* * *

The halls were sombre and foreboding. Merlin wondered if the walls actually _were_ foreboding or if he simply imagined them to be. He trailed silently after Gaius; they were heading back to his office. But if the walls weren't foreboding, the guards stationed sporadically throughout the building certainly were.

The nightly news from the day before had reported the death of a Guide and her Sentinel, but the details of the murder were still unclear. The anchor claimed that the authorities believed it to be the results of a mugging gone wrong. The story didn't sit well with Merlin. If that were true, then armed guards wouldn't be prowling the halls and corridors. A simple death would _not _cause the outburst of anguish that had caused him to collapse yesterday. Merlin shuddered at the memory and followed Gaius into his study.

Gaius lowered himself heavily into the chair behind the desk while Merlin flopped into his usual seat across of him. For a moment, they simply sat, exhausted from the near constant emotional turmoil.

"Gaius," Merlin began softly, "What's going on?"

"How are your shields? Have you been meditating?" Gaius hedged the question.

"They're fine, and yeah, everyday," Merlin paused, staring straight into the old Guide's eye, "What was that last night?"

Gaius sighed, hoping he could deter the conversation. "You know, you really shouldn't be here. It's dangerous enough for you to be in the House on a regular basis, but now, it's crawling with Sentinels. They are all on high alert. One might realize that you are a Guide, not just an everyday normal."

Merlin merely waited. The speech wasn't new, and well, perhaps he did have a point, but regardless, Gaius was stalling. Gaius glared back at the young man, before surrendering.

"I'm sure you realize by now, that this was not a normal murder."

Merlin nodded slowly.

"The Guide who died yesterday wasn't mugged," Gaius admitted wearily, "She was attacked. That pain - which you and a select few empaths sensed. That was from the nonconsensual breaking of a bond."

Merlin nearly fell out of his seat, his eyes making a desperate attempt to pop out of his head.

"What?" he asked stunned, "Is that even possible?"

"I'm afraid it is," Gaius confirmed, "It is an old and terrible practice; most have forgotten it ever existed or was even possible. It was developed during the 1700s. Back then the shortage of empaths was so severe, that the people in charge devised the _brilliant_ plan to share Guides. They would separate pairs and try to get the Guide to re-bond with a new Sentinel. Most didn't survive the process, and those who did were subjected to it again and again every few years."

Merlin sat horrified. A bond was for life. To force someone to leave their bondmate, and then pair with a stranger, was an appalling; a true atrocity.

"Death seems like the better choice," Merlin muttered absently.

"Indeed," Gaius agreed, "The practice was outlawed roughly a decade after it begun, and the knowledge banned. I came across a very rare book as a medical student. In all my years as a Guide physician, I never once thought I would have to face a bond breaking in real life." Gaius rubbed a wrinkled hand over his aged face that was now lined with stress.

"If the process was forgotten," Merlin started, a cold sense of foreboding building in the pit of his stomach, "How did someone use it?"

"I don't know," the doctor confessed, "What's more troubling is where they would have found the tool to accomplish it."

"What do you mean?"

"A very special knife must be used to cut the bond. Bonds between a Sentinel and Guide have no physical presence, yet something exists to bind the two together in a very real way. Only an authentic Gravi Vinculum could break a something so intangible."

"What's a Gravy Vincolumn?" Merin asked, confusion and worry creating a wrinkle between his eyebrows.

"The _Gravi Vinculum_," Gaius clarified, "is a very unique knife, made out of a rare magnetic metal. I believe the magnetism injunction with projective empathy is what cuts the bond. It can only be wielded by an empath to work."

"There are so many disturbing things about that statement," Merlin said.

"I didn't realize there were any still in existence," Gaius muttered worriedly, acutely unsettled by the mere idea that one of those insidious knives survived and concerned for the welfare of the city, should some deranged individual actually be using it.

"I need to see that book," Gaius said, standing to grab his coat, "Uther is demanding an explanation and I want to be one hundred percent sure before I bring this to him."

"Speaking of Uther," Merlin casually segued, "Who was that Sentinel with him earlier?"

"Who?" Gaius asked, momentarily caught off guard by the subject change.

"Ya know, the guy you came in with," Merlin answered, nonchalantly picking at the fabric on his jeans. Gaius finished putting on his jacket, smoothing out the lapels, and then paused to stare at the man - hardly more than a boy - sitting in front of him.

"Why do you ask?" he queried.

"No reason in particular," Merlin feigned, attempting to uphold a carefully constructed air of indifference.

"Mmm-hmm," the doctor hummed skeptically.

"Well," Merlin pressed, caving to the expectant silence, "Do you know him?"

"Of course, I do. He's Uther's son."

"What?" Merlin exclaimed, nearly falling out of his seat again.

"The man you saw was Uther's son, Arthur," Gaius supplied, rather amused at the other's surprise.

"I'm sorry. What?" the Merlin repeated incredulous, "That was Uther's son, Arthur. As in Arthur Pendragon? As in the future Alpha Sentinel of Albion? _That_ Arthur?"

"Yes, that Arthur," Gaius replied a measure of prideful glee hidden in his tone.

"Oh, you have got to be kidding me," Merlin groaned sinking down into his seat.

"What's got you so worked up?" Gaius persisted, draping his red plaid scarf over his shoulders, carefully watching his pupil droop further towards the ground.

"Nothing," Merlin assured, "Go find your book. I'll tell you about it later."

"Very well," the elder Guide said, "But I fully expect to hear about it later."

"I don't think there's any place I can hide that you wouldn't find me," Merlin smiled affectionately, touched by his mentor's concern. Gaius returned the smile, donned his hat, and departed in search of that loathsome book he had stumbled across so many years ago.

Left alone, Merlin's thoughts inevitably drifted back to the Sentinel. He had noticed Arthur watching him from the moment he entered the room, but their eyes had only met once. In that moment though, Merlin felt like he had found exactly where he belonged, that there was no place in the world more suited for Merlin than by that man's side as he changed the world. But in the next instant, the contact was broken, and the feeling was gone. The effect was remarkably unbalancing; so much so Merlin doubted he had felt anything at all.

But those perfectly sky-blue eyes plagued his mind. Arthur had fair blond hair and a sturdy build with broad shoulders destined to carry the weight of the world.

_How bizarre._ Merlin thought. Knowing the kinds of responsibilities that must fall to Arthur, Merlin ached with everything that he was to relieve some of that burden. Having never met before, Merlin couldn't explain this urge to help Arthur. He had previously felt the biological imperative to help a random Sentinel before, sure, but this... this was different.

Morgana's vision coupled with feeling inexplicably drawn to Arthur was a recipe for disaster and didn't bode well for Merlin. Did it mean that he would finally throw in the towel and announce his empathy? Forfeiting his freedom for a gilded jailhouse thinly disguised as a boarding school? Was he completely powerless to it? Did it mean that Arthur was _his_ Sentinel?

Merlin snorted. That couldn't be true. Arthur was going to be the next Prime Alpha. Surely, he had hundreds of candidates in line to be his fiancé.

But he _was_ a few years past the normal bonding age. And wouldn't it have been all over the news if the Pendragon had found his Guide? In order to be the leader of the city, Arthur was required to bond. Nothing suggested that he shied away from his future role, so why was he still unbonded?

It didn't make sense, the pieces didn't fit. It was - for a lack of a better word - odd.

"Just plain odd," Merlin mumbled aloud to the empty room.

Glancing at the clock on the wall, Merlin decided it was time to head home. He gathered up his empty basket, and closed up the office with a practiced ease and nothing but a myriad of questions as company for the long ride home.


	4. Chapter 4

"_Once you make a decision, the universe conspires to make it happen_." - Ralph Waldo Emerson

* * *

"DANIEL!"

He could hear her cries. They railed against the buildings, rebounding off the bricks, and reverberating inside his skull. Her pain streaked across the bond between them.

"DANIEL! Please, help me!" she screamed again.

Faster. Faster. Faster. He had to reach her. Little else registered above the constant drumming of protect the Guide that burned in his veins and drove his feet on the pavement.

He was getting closer, her scent faint, but it was there. Daniel ran faster, past building after building, street after street. He was faintly aware he had bulldozed over several pedestrians, but none of that matter. All that mattered was getting to his Guide. She was in danger; he could feel something attacking them, trying to sever the bond with what felt like a rusty saw, leaving jagged cuts and gaping wounds.

Another horrific scream tore through the air, echoed by a "DANIEL, PLEASE!"

He growled in response, a spine-chilling, visceral sound. On some level, he realized her scream was louder this time, and the scent – the scent! – it was stronger now; he was getting closer. Close enough to sense that there were others with her, foreign scents that mingled with hers. Foreign voices that ordered her to hold still, that belonged to her attackers. But this rational processing was drowned out beneath the roaring need to save his Guide. Death to anyone who got in his way.

So close, he was so close, just a few more meters and –

An intense pain shot through him, and his legs collapsed beneath him. His body skidded to a halt in the gravel. The Sentinel lied there, hopeless. She was gone. He had felt her; her fear, her pain, her despair. Followed by an overwhelming sadness filled with regret that flashed through the dying link and then … nothing. She was gone.

The Sentinel whimpered weakly as the agonizing emptiness consumed him. If she had left, he would follow her. A tear pooled on the side of his nose, before finally spilling over; hitting the ground beneath him.

Kaitlyn. He thought, as his heart slowed. My Guide. Kaitlyn, my own.

* * *

A second attack. A second Guide and a second Sentinel dead. The mugging gone wrong fib was not going to work anymore, and mass panic was inevitable - already beginning to bubble up among the Sentinel and Guide community and soon it would boil over into the rest of the city's population. Because if the people who protected you couldn't keep themselves safe, what were the chances for the average citizen?

Arthur had initially been against the cover up story - people deserved the truth - but he had conceded to the logic that scaring the public is a bad idea. He almost regrets that decision, now they are at risk of losing the people's trust if they find out there is a maniac out on the loose and they weren't warned. One attack is random and unfortunate. But two... Two is more than coincidence.

Another crime where the perpetrators covered their tracks with the exact same brand of clove essential oil and blocked out the CCTV cameras in the exact same way pointed to the same assailants as in the Maria Harper case; making Daniel and Kaitlyn Rogers, the third and fourth victims.

Arthur thought that they had lucked out with the cameras actually. One very long sleepless night spent scouring the CCTV footage had lead them to a small candy shop where Kaitlyn Rogers was last seen alive. Gaius even knew the owners. The car finally slowed to a stop and Arthur followed Gaius and his father out.

Stepping onto the sidewalk, Arthur looked around. He wasn't very impressed. The neighborhood was relatively clean for being in one of the outer districts, but the buildings were still pretty dilapidated; several stores had windows boarded up, probably to stand in for broken windows that couldn't be replaced, and trash floated down the street rather than sitting neatly in bins. But this shop stood out defiantly against the worn down backdrop. It was painted bright yellow with an immaculate black trim framing the dutch door and windows. The door itself was made of red wood, slightly battered but well loved, happily proclaiming 'welcome', while the large window to the right of it proudly showcased a drool worthy selection of sweets with giant, black and gold, old-timey letters on the glass that spelled out 'Emyrs Sweets.'

Gaius unlocked the door and entered the shop first, a bell tinkled as the door swung inward. Arthur's gaze swept around the empty room taking in its homey atmosphere.

"I'll check upstairs for Hunith," Gaius spoke as he crossed behind the window display and headed for the stairs, which opened up near the end of the bar. Arthur exchanged a terse nod with his father before he followed Gaius up the staircase.

Left to himself, Arthur surveyed the room. Directly beneath the window sat a tiered, stadium like display overflowing with an assortment of candies labeled with different stickers like "the Chocoholic's Choice", "the Ultimate Saltwater Taffy Pack" and "the Truth is Salty-Sweet". Further in the room lay a counter of finely finished wood, it wrapped around the room in an L shape, and ended in a glass display case. There sat four old-fashioned bar stools parallel to the longest section of the bar. They were covered in a muted red vinyl that was cracked from wear in several places and probably creaked when you sat in it. On the wall opposite the bar stood a tall and wide cabinet with dozens of brightly colored, plastic drawers; each filled to the brim with a different confection.

Arthur meandered towards the back passing by the display case that housed a variety of chilled pastries at the end of the bar. He would have thought that the concentrated scent of sugar and chocolate would be overwhelming, but instead it was pleasantly mild. Walking behind the vitrine, Arthur knocked on the door that presumably lead to a back room.

"Mrs. Emyrs?" he called. When he got no response, he pushed open the door and called again. When he still got no response, he let the door swing shut and headed towards the stairs. About half way up, he heard the door open and the bell chime, followed by laughter and familiar voices. Arthur crept down the stairs and hid in the alcove just out of sight. He could make five distinct treads, so five people. Amidst the creaking of those ancient vinyl seats as everyone settled, Arthur realized that knew who had just come in: Elyan, Lancelot, Percival, and even Gwaine along with the candy shop owner he saw that the House the other day - Merlin, right?

Arthur had trained with those Sentinels at the Institute. They had grown close, so much so that everyone had started referring to them as 'Arthur and the Knights.' He rarely saw them anymore he thought with a pang of sadness. Maybe occasionally they ran into each at the Institute, but otherwise...

But why are they here? Arthur's brow creased in puzzlement.

He'd like to say he didn't shamelessly eavesdrop on his friends, but he did.

"Explain something to me, Merlin," Gwaine said, hopping up onto the bar, his right leg bent in front of him, letting the other hang off the edge.

"What?" Merlin mumbled distractedly, searching under the bar's counter for clean cups.

"How is it that you personally know every single one of the Knights, but only just last week did you meet our coveted leader?"

"Careful Gwaine, sounds like you've been thinking. Wouldn't want you to strain something," Merlin said with a brash grin.

"Cheeky bastard," Gwaine shot back, leaning over to swat at Merlin's head.

"Now, that you mention it, that is kind of weird," Elyan agreed, sitting in the seat nearest to Gwaine at the end of the bar, resting his elbows on the wood, hands loosely clasped.

"Nooo. Don't encourage him!" Merlin whined, as he reemerged with four clean ceramic cups, and set them up neatly on matching saucers. Turning to the counter behind him, and picking up a coffee-maker pot filled hot chocolate.

"Thank you!" Gwaine exclaimed, "See? I'm not the only one thinking it!"

"Did you really only meet him a couple days ago?" Percy asked looking doubtful, as he watched Lance sit between him and Elyan, digging through his bag for something.

"I didn't actually meet him," Merlin relented, as he poured steaming cocoa into the arranged cups. "I just saw him for the first time. We were both at the House during my extra visit last week." Pause. "He's shorter than I thought he would be."

From his hiding place in the stairwell, Arthur nearly huffed in indignation. He was nearly 2 metres for Christ's sake.

"Oh? And how was the princess?" Gwaine said grinning, as he was handed his cup of hot chocolate.

"Dunno. Tired," Merlin said, "And stressed, I suppose."

"That's our Arthur," Lance assured, finally dropping his bag onto the ground and accepting a cup from Merlin.

"What do you mean?" Merlin said, curious to know.

"He's always working," Elyan lamented, throwing his hands in the air, "We never get to see him anymore."

"Not since the Institute," Percy added, taking a sip of his own hot chocolate. Arthur felt a twinge of guilt, along with a small flare of warmth. At least, his friends missed him just as much.

"You know, not once," Gwaine commiserated loudly, "In all the time I've known him, have I ever seen that boy take a day off. Not once."

"I tried to get him to come down here a couple of times, but..." Lance shrugged, "No luck."

"Which brings me back to my original point," Gwaine paused to take a swig of his drink, then pointed a finger accusingly at Merlin, "How come you know all of us, but not Arthur?"

All of the Knights turned to look at Merlin; wanting to know the answer just as bad as Gwaine.

"There's not much to tell really," Merlin said, "I mean I met Gwaine because you have an unhealthy addiction for our pear crumble."

"Guilty as charged," Gwaine admitted.

"Really now. You've come to the shop everyday since you were fifteen; I'm surprised we don't have to roll you out."

"Careful, Merlin," Gwaine pouted, "You'll crush my delicate self-confidence."

The candy store worker snorted his disbelief, "There's nothing sensitive or delicate about you."

"I dunno," Percy said, "I think he's hair might have feelings."

"Oi! Leave my hair alone," Gwaine whined, running a hand through said hair. "Go on with your story!"

"It's a short story," Merlin said, "I met Lance on patrol one night. Saved me from getting mugged actually, and he brought the rest of you here not long after."

"That was an exciting fable, Merlin," Gwaine said, "But could you tell it again, only this time with dragons?"

There was a collective eyeroll, and Gwaine was rewarded with a swift cuft to the back of his head from Elyan. A short interval of peace followed, but ended the moment Gwaine spoke up again.

"By the way," he announced, "Did you know we have company?" Tilting his head back towards the doorway beside the bar. It was then Arthur heard Gaius and Uther start to descend the stairs, their footsteps creaking against the wooded floors. All five of them turned expectantly towards the stairs just as the Prime Alpha Sentinel and his Guide stepped out. Arthur slipped out from his hiding place to exit behind them.

"Speak of the devil," Gwaine murmured under his breath, hiding a smirk under the downward tilt of his head and moving to drape both legs over the side of the bar.

"Sorry to bother you, gentlemen," said Uther, "But I must speak with Hunith Emerys."

"No bother at all, sir," Lance offered, glancing nervously at Merlin.

Merlin cleared his throat, "Hunith isn't here today, she went out to pick up some supplies and won't be back until later this evening. Can I help you?"

"And who you are?" Uther eyed him imperiously.

"Ah, that is Merlin Emerys," Gaius said stepping in, "Hunith's son."

"Well then perhaps you can help me," the older Pendragon decided, "Do you know a Kaitlyn Rogers?"

"Yeah, she stops by in the mornings for coffee," Merlin answered warily, "Why?"

"And do you know her Sentinel, Daniel Rogers?" Uther pressed on ignoring his question.

"Not as well, no," Merlin answered, his voice taking on a panicked edge subtle enough that a Sentinel might miss it, "Why?"

"Did Kaitlyn have any enemies?" Uther pressed again.

"No!" Merlin, all but yelled, feeling very backed into a corner, "Why do you want to know?" Giving up on Uther, Merlin redirected his questions, "Gaius, what's going on?" His eyes desperately hoping for anything other than the conclusion that slowly dawning on him.

Quietly, Gaius replied, "Kaitlyn was murdered last night."

Merlin bumped into the counter behind him, then slowly slid to the floor.

Immediately, the Knights were on their feet. Gwaine swung over the bar, kneeling next to Merlin, slowly coaxing him to stand. Lance met them at the end of the bar and opened the small partition to let them through. They lead him to the seat Elyan previously occupied. Elyan himself hasn't moved much, remaining close to place a comforting hand on Merlin's shoulder blade. Percival - tempting fate - had practically surged forward to get between Merlin and Uther's small party; planting his feet wide, crossing his behemoth arms defensively, and glowering rather impressively at the Prime Sentinel. Uther, looking a bit shocked as well as baffled, took a couple of steps back.

For his part, Arthur was severely conflicted. He felt a sharp flash of jealousy and simultaneous a swell of pride. He should be appalled at the Knights blatant show of disrespect, but it wasn't there. Evidently, he was pleased the people he trusted most in the world would protect Merlin but resentment over the fact that he could not do it himself. What could possibly be so important about Merlin that people all around him would act this way? Still parsing through his emotions, Arthur nearly missed Gaius push aside his stubborn Sentinel and join the distraught young man on the bar stool. Arthur got the distinct impression that he was sitting on the wrong side of the fence, standing behind his father watching everyone gather around Merlin.

"Merlin?" Gaius asked kindheartedly, patiently waiting for him to respond.

"This is all my fault," Merlin confessed miserably, hunching forward slightly, and burying his face in his hands. Uther moved to interrogate him further, but the four I-fucking-dare-you glares shot in his direction, made him stop. He might be the Alpha Sentinel of Albion but taking on four pissed off Sentinels would still be considered unwise.

"What do you mean?" the old doctor inquired kindly, hoping to persuade Merlin to talk more.

"I saw Katy yesterday," he revealed sadly, "She stopped by for a quick cup of coffee after work, and we chatted for a while. Said she had this creepy feeling that somebody was following her." He dropped his hands and looked up, eyes bright with unshed tears. "I should have made her stay."

"You had no idea what was going to happen," Gaius tried to convince him.

"But I should have known better!" Merlin interrupted angrily, spine straightening in his seat. "Only a week ago, a Guide was attacked! I offered to call somebody to walk her home, but she insisted that she'd be fine. That it was only a few blocks from her house! I should have-" He sat down again. He continued on, in a low broken voice. "I should have made her stay; made her wait until one of you could have gotten here." Merlin gestured to the Knights standing around him, slumping even further in his seat. No longer filled with righteous indignation, just weighed down by grief.

For a split second, everyone was silent. Then, Lance said softly, "I'm so sorry, Merlin."

"It's not your fault," he said weakly.

Arthur decided to pick up his father's questioning. As kindly as he could, he asked, "Did Katy have any enemies?"

Merlin looked directly at Arthur, surprised, almost as if he hadn't noticed that Arthur was there before now. He cleared his throat and said, "I don't think so, but I wouldn't really know. Gwen might."

"Wait, Katy with red hair?" Lance said and Merlin nodded. "I think I remember Gwen telling me that she used to live across the hall from her and Morgana. They are - were really close."

"We need to go interview her now," Uther said, then he strode past Arthur, and was out the door before anyone could protest. Gaius sighed and patted Merlin on the shoulder, before following.

"Gaius, wait!" Merlin staggered out of the chair and caught Gaius' suit sleeve to make him wait. "Are these the same attackers as before?" His face has lost that broken quality, replaced with a stony strength and grim determinism.

Gaius sighs again. "Regretfully, yes. They used identical clove oil at the scene."

Gwaine made a scoffing noise in the back of his throat and muttered, "Idiots."

Everyone still in the room, stared at him. He shifted his weight, and adjusted his position leaning against the bar, before he said, "There are more ways to track someone besides just scent. So you can't smell anything? So what? The suspects would have left a million other traces of their presence."

Gwaine's entire body was rigid, defensive like he was waiting for someone to strike him down, but beneath that there was a certainty, an absolute conviction that what he was saying is true.

"You're sure of this?" Arthur asked, barely allowing himself to hope.

"Without a doubt," Gwaine answered seriously.

Merlin piped up, "Gwaine's the best tracker in all of Albion. If anyone knows, it's him."

The comment threw Arthur for a moment. He knew Gwaine was good, not particularly tied down to a territory, which made him an ideal tracker, but the best?

"Wait, if you're the best, why weren't you put on the teams initially?" Arthur demanded.

"You may not have noticed, but I'm a bit on Uther's shit list," Gwaine said grimly, if not a little petulantly. Arthur's face went slack. He couldn't believe his father wouldn't call on the best to find the attackers all because of something Gwaine had done. Probably ages ago, but with Gwaine it was hard to tell.

"A bit?" Percy said skeptically.

Elyan snorted, "More like at the top."

"C'mon. Be fair, guys." Lance spoke up to dissuade the oncoming fight, "He's really more near the middle."

"I hate you all so much," Gwaine mumbled as he let his head hit the bar top.

Merlin cracked a small smile and added, "That's too bad, cause we're the only ones willing to put up with your arse."

"As much fun as it is to gang up on Gwaine," Arthur interrupted, pulling himself together, "We need to get moving. Gwaine, go to the scene of the last attack - Gaius has directions - and see if there is anything left to track." Gwaine nodded and walked over to Gaius to receive instructions. Satisfied, Arthur turned to Lance, "Lancelot, I need you take Percival and Elyan. Go with Gwaine. If he finds something, I don't want him to be without backup. Understood?"

"Yes, sir," Lance replied easily.

"Gaius. My father was right," Arthur continued, "We need to talk to Guinevere. Maybe Guide Rogers told her something about who might have been following her."

With their orders given, everyone began to leave. When they exited the shop, the car was just pulling up and Uther was arguing with someone on his mobile. The Knights bid farewell them, assuring Arthur that they would contact him the moment they found something, however inconsequential.

It wasn't until heard the jingle of keys that Arthur realized that Merlin had silently followed him the entire time, occupying the space to his right, maybe half a step behind felt something settle inside him, unsure of what it was. But before he could question his actions, Uther ended his phone call and asked contemptibly, "What is he doing here?"

The words were out of his mouth before they really registered with his brain, "Merlin's coming with us."

"Why?" Uther demanded.

Thinking on the spot and taking a rather large leap of faith, Arthur said, "Because the Guide we're going to see might be more inclined to talk to us, if she has a friend to support her."

Uther looked like he was about to protest, when Gaius cut in, "It would help, if the Guide had some form of emotional support while we interview her. Merlin and Gwen are good friends so he volunteered."

"Is that so?"

"Uh, yes - sir," Merlin tacked on hastily.

"Very well," Uther said, getting into the car.

As Gaius entered the car as well, Merlin asked quizzically, "Why did you cover for me? Not that I'm not thankful," he backpedalled, " 'Cause I am, but... why?"

Arthur didn't have an answer for that, didn't have a decent excuse. All he knew is that he wanted to keep this plain, ordinary man close and find out what made him so special. He didn't think that would go over so well, so he copped out and said, "Call it a hunch, but there's something about you Merlin."

Then he got in the car, and Merlin followed.


End file.
